


Love me more, I can't save us without it

by deapdool (orphan_account)



Category: Yuri!!! on ICE
Genre: AU, M/M, Otabek is poor, Slow Burn, Viktor Nikiforov - Freeform, Yuri has a snake, Yuri has bipolar disorder, Yuuri Katsuki - Freeform, but he's only there briefly, but it all gets better, he doesn't magically overcome it but he learns to cope, he's only there briefly too, he's pretty cool, i have this all planned out but I don't know how long it's actually going to be, kind of slow I guess, shit happens, so is yuri, theyre both kind of sad, things suck but they get alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/deapdool
Summary: "Are you going to kill me?" He asks bluntly, the thought of the question being possibly offensive not even crossing his mind for a moment. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss.The other person -- a boy, with blond hair and a short build, sends him such a harsh glare that Otabek questions if he actually physically felt it hit his body."No," the other male answers. No further explanation is provided. Otabek doesn't need one. At least he won't die tonight.(Was that really a good thing though?)





	

 

Otabek didn't mean to end up here.

It's _downtown_ New York. So far away from the city, that even the blinding glare from the building lights can't brighten up the streets. There isn't one person who doesn't seem to have either an alcohol or cocaine addiction. It's unnerving to settle yourself anywhere near another person.

His mother tells him that really, nobody asks to be there. It's so different from the rest of the place, it's almost it's own country. "Only poor people live that far away from civilization." The usuage of such a strong word gives the man chills.

That was the last thing they talked about before Otabek's phone service was shut off. After spending the last of his money in some cheap, barely running bar, on weirdly named but extremely alcoholic drinks, he was done. Jobless and now homeless, there was no hope left for him.

It's only been two days of being evicted from his home when the bistered-haired man finds himself being chased out of another bar, this one seemingly even less classy than the last. He has a bottle of Coors in his hand, and the owner is screaming curses at him, calling him dirty words for downing almost a whole case without turning over a single cent for it.

It's only been two days of being evicted from his home when Otabek realizes he's at an all time low.

There's something coursing through his veins, and he can't decide if its anger or pure alcohol poisoning. He can't bring himself to care any longer.

So, here he is. Sitting on the rounding of a street corner, back intentionally turned to the probably less ominous than it appears alley. There's a neon pink sign that's buzzing above his head, but the man's vision is too blurry to get a good look at what it says.

Suddenly he's standing. He's standing, and he's walking, and there's headlights heading straight for him. Otabek doesn't move. Acting like a deer in the headlights has taken up a whole new meaning.

The car stops. A loud screech rings through the man's ears, and he can't tell if it was the tired or the brakes. It doesn't matter, he supposes. Then, cold, small hands are grabbing his wrists, tugging him into the passenger side of the car. He's practically shoved inside.

The bottle makes a clinking sound when it comes in contact with the middle console, and Otabek's fingers only curl tighter around it.

"God damn it," he hears someone huff in the seat next to him, their door slamming shut. With raised eyebrows, the brunet looks over at the person who could definitely be considered a kidnapper at this point.

It's during this time when Otabek realizes he could actually _be_ getting kidnapped. Once again, his brain is too clouded to decide if he doesn't care because he's drunk, or because he's hit rock bottom. Not that it's important.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asks bluntly, the thought of the question being possibly offensive not even crossing his mind for a moment. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss.

The other person -- a boy, with blond hair and a short build, sends him such a harsh glare that Otabek questions if he actually physically felt it hit his body.

"No," the other male answers. No further explanation is provided. Otabek doesn't need one. At least he won't die tonight.

_(Was that really a good thing though?)_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Please feel free to leave constructive criticism, id love to receive it, and your opinions! I hope you all enjoyed, and I promise chapters will be longer than this, aha. This was just an intro.


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